


Moral Authority

by wumpusandzandii



Series: Moral Authority [1]
Category: TMNT - Fandom, TMNT Human!AU, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Bay Movies), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Fanfiction, Human Donatello (TMNT), Human Leonardo (TMNT), Human Michelangelo (TMNT), Human Raphael, Human Splinter, Human Turtles (TMNT), Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Moral Authority, Stacey - Freeform, Zandii, hamato yoshi - splinter, human!AU, kimay'a - Freeform, lily - Freeform, wumpusandzandii
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-13 04:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17481227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wumpusandzandii/pseuds/wumpusandzandii
Summary: Introduction to Kimay'a Humadee, NYPD Officer who believes the vigilantes are helping the city, not hurting it. Leonardo has noticed one particular officer responding to their tied up criminals, and braves leaving the shadows behind.





	1. Out of the Shadows

The sounds of the city bustled around him as always, the discordant tones mixing together into something that spoke to the soul, reminded him of his standing. Always a part of something bigger, fighting to help make it all run more smoothly, at least that was what he convinced himself when doubts ate away at the corners of his mind. Not that he was particularly prone to feeling doubtful; he was confidant, and his moral compass stayed straight and true. It did seem somewhat prudent to examine those doubts from time to time, just to be sure. He was a leader, after all, not a dictator.

With a small sniff, he examined the alley corner to corner, not remotely for the first time, and likely not the last. Perched on a fire escape at an angle that light wouldn’t give much away, he scanned it from corner to street, and back again. Flexible as he was, he didn’t like surprises. They had to prepared for as much as possible, and that honestly took up a significant amount of his mind’s idle time, because prepare as one might, they were impossible to avoid. 

Not that anything was likely to happen at that point. It had been a solid fifteen minutes since his brother had called in the perps, and left off towards home. Catching them and getting them tied up to be arrested had been fairly basic, entirely uncomplicated. Just your regular bargain basement burglars that got way more than they had set out for that evening. They had hardly been capable untied with weapons, there was little to no risk with them bound and their own personal police escort impending at any time. Normally he would’ve left too, but he had to admit curiosity was getting the better of him, for once.

Over the course of close to a year, he had stayed on to make sure the perps were taken into custody properly. It had started as something of a distraction, something else to do before heading home. One of his brothers had been expecting a child, and the closer it had come to arriving, the more chaos entered the living spaces. Once she actually did arrive, it was just something else entirely. They obviously gave him time to spend uninterrupted with his new little family, and as unexpected as that was for him, he was absolutely happy for him. However, their patrols were down to three, and cycling them became more difficult. Meditating was nigh on impossible with an infant screaming, if they happened to be visiting. At some point in all of it, it almost felt like a role reversal, with finding excuses for himself to be out and away from the household, and his brother staying home to manage. 

It was still weird.

Even as things settled into a new normal, he found himself continuing to take more patrols than was strictly his “fair share”, enjoying the time out, the quiet. In the process, he started waiting for the police more often, and started taking note of whether it was an officer that had reported before, or someone new. Over half the time, it was the same female officer, something that surprised him. In a city like New York, there were plenty of officers to take the call, even if they did stick to the same borough quite a bit. She seemed particularly apt, capable and articulate, so he doubted the night shift was any kind of punishment. His curiosity drove him to question why it was her so often, was it personal drive?

There was the option, of course, of asking his brothers who it was on the patrols he didn’t go out on, but he hadn’t shared the information with any of them. Maybe it was something that gave him perceived control of the situation, maybe he was projecting interest for the sake of something to do… he honestly didn’t know. All he knew is that he felt compelled, and it wasn’t harming anything, so he had continued with his lone quest to find out more.

Sometimes he talked to her, always sticking to the shadows and keeping it short and to the point. Letting her know where they found them, what they had been doing, maybe offering some kind of cover story so she wouldn’t get questioned for bringing in another round of perps from some mysterious source. She always took notes, small pad of paper and pen at the ready in her neatly pressed uniform. Nodding and getting the information she needed, she’d get the perps deftly into her car, having little to no trouble with those that struggled, and driving off to the station with them.

*To speak of the devil…*

The squad car pulled up to the mouth of the alley, lights atop the roof dark, only the headlights of the car putting the belly of the beast into light. The lone conscious perp squinted into the headlights, any last hope he may have had seeping out of his shoulders as they sank in resignment to his fate. Stepping out of the car was the same said female officer, examining the scene with keen precision, weapon at the ready. “Clear?” she questioned the dark, and he knew it was meant for him.

“Clear,” he answered, certainty weighing his tone enough for her to holster her weapon and move closer to the three men on the ground. “Two out for the count, third is awake but gagged.”

Clicking on her flashlight, the officer looked over three on the ground, propped against each other. “Call said they were caught during a B&E?”

Looking down, he couldn’t help the small chuckle that issued forth. “Decent amount of breaking, not a whole lot of entering. Caught them on the threshold of Hanson’s Jewelry, making enough noise to alert someone that was deaf and blind. I doubt they’ll give you much grief, already called the owner and they’ll be along to press charges.”

Nodding, she looked up and around, obviously trying to determine where he was. He had no doubt she recognized his voice by that point, after so many months of cloak and dagger alleyway meetings. Maybe part of his curiosity was to why she didn’t try to apprehend him, press for information. It was like an unspoken agreement that suited them both just fine. 

“You make my job a little too easy sometimes,” she mused, pulling the conscious man up to his feet by his upper arm and escorting him to her squad car, reciting his rights as she did so. Shutting the door behind him and walking back to the other two, she sighed lightly and put a hand on her hip. “Then again, there’s these two clowns to deal with. They out cold enough that I need to call in EMS for transport?”

“They should start coming-to soon enough. Just a couple of lightweights that couldn’t take a hit and decided to take naps instead. Nothing serious.” He watched her as she stood looking at the two, not moving to get them into the car herself. There was enough ambient light from her flashlight that he noticed the scar on the side of her face again, and wondered (not for the first time) about its origin. 

“Sounds fair enough,” she answered, grunting a little as she started to drag the larger of the two men left towards her car. Her strength was admirable, he wasn’t a small man. There were plenty of people that wouldn’t have been able to budge him, and simply left him to wake up. Even with her arms underneath his arms and dragging him backwards, there was a stubborn set to her shoulders.

His eyebrows slowly scrunched together as he watched, an internal battle raging. He did not take risks, ever. Not unless there was absolutely no way to avoid them. However, he also helped people as much as possible, without question. She could definitely use his help moving the men into the car, but it was a big risk. Maybe the only reason she hadn’t reported his help was a slow burn; maybe she was waiting for enough information first. 

Instinct told him differently, and he chose in the intensity of that moment to go with his gut feeling. It was rarely wrong. Carefully, he disarmed himself, stowing his weapons neatly against the wall. Silently, he swung over the railing of the fire escape, and allowed himself to drop to the pavement below, softly. Glancing up, he saw that he had been quiet enough to avoid even her detection, and he took a small breath in. He could still change his mind, he had one last chance.

Before he knew it, he was scooping the man’s ankles up and lifting to help ease her burden. As quickly as it took for him to look up from the man, he felt the weight shift abruptly back to the pavement and was looking down the barrel of a police issue 9mm Glock. Swallowing hard, he released his grip on the perps ankles and raised his hands above his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I just thought…”

“Thought what? Appearing out of nowhere would be a good plan? Two steps back, now.” Her eyes bored holes into him with their intensity, and her aim never even wavered. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, not hesitating to move backwards as instructed. Maybe his instinct was wrong after all. One wrong decision, and he may have taken down everything he and his brothers had worked for. Stupid. “I wasn’t thinking, I just thought you could use a hand.” The gun continued to point at him, the eyes hardly blinking. He glanced at her nametag briefly, taking another step back. “Look, Officer Humadee, I didn’t mean to startle you. I honestly didn’t mean to be that quiet, and I should’ve announced my presence. My deepest apologies.”

“Are you armed?” she asked after a long pause.

“No,” he answered, hands held steady above him. “You can check me, if you want.” Agreeing, she had him turn around, which he complied with. Waiting patiently as she patted him down, he closed his eyes, wondering what on Earth had gotten into him to act so reckless. Once done, he heard her gun slide back into the leather of the holster, the metal click of the snap that held it in place.

“You just want to help?” she asked, her voice still holding a fair amount of apprehension, but it had less tension than before.

“Boy scouts honor.” Something inside of him cringed as he realized he sounded like his youngest brother, and again he questioned what had caused him to act so out of the ordinary. Turning slowly back around, he kept his arms up, but rested his hands against the back of his neck. “Kinda my fault they’re unconscious, doesn’t feel right to leave you dragging them into the car alone.”

“I am able to do it myself.”

“I have zero doubt of that. I was just… it felt like holding the door open, in a twisted sort of way.”

Her angled eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him for a long moment before giving him a solitary nod of approval. “Alright. But you try anything, and you’ll have a bullet to answer to.”

“Understood.” Breathing the evening air in relief, he moved towards the still unconscious man with her. They were able to move both into the back of the squad car with minimal talking, their coordinating efforts working almost effortlessly. That alone was a surprise, as he still struggled with his brothers from time to time, and they had been training and working together their entire lives.

As she secured the vehicle, she opened the driver’s door, pausing and looking like she was about to say something. The radio clipped to her shoulder crackled to life, and instead of speaking she listened to the voice. Dispatch was asking for an update on her arrest, and she informed them that the suspects were safely apprehended, and she was headed back to the station to process them. Once done, she let the radio rest against her shoulder, and fixed him in her gaze once again, though with significantly less intensity. “Thank you for your help,” she said finally, pressing her lips together.

“Just a couple of guys, like you said, you could’ve handled it yourself just fine.” Folding his arms, he adjusted his stance a little, trying to look less imposing.

Shaking her head, she rested her arms against the top edge of the open door. “Not just that. All of the help until now. Thank you… I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, you don’t have a nameplate.”

Swallowing hard, his fingers pressed into the biceps of his folded arms. She wanted a name, and it was only fair. But everything had already been such a risk… Looking at her, he decided that it didn’t matter what could happen, he wasn’t going to lie to her. She had trusted him at his word for months and done nothing to compromise him. “Leo… Leonardo,” he replied slowly. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“How could I not?” Officer Humadee asked with a small, wry smile. “I figure if you can move that silently, you could’ve killed me ages ago if you wanted to. Have a good evening, Leonardo.”

“You too, Officer Humadee.” He gave her a small, friendly wave as she dropped herself into the driver’s seat, but by the time her headlights came back on, he was already nowhere to be seen.

***

Sipping coffee in front of her computer at the end of her shift, Kimay’a Humadee caught her mind wandering. It wasn’t like it never happened, end of shift paperwork was hardly engaging, mostly a necessary evil. It was different that night, however, and for some reason, she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that was itching at the back of her mind. Dropping her weight back against her chair and away from the computer, she ran her hands through her short, dark hair, tucking it behind her ears. Squinting at her final report to finish, she picked up a pen and tapped it against the tabletop.

It wasn’t the report itself bugging her. It was open-shut. Three perps picked up, charges filed, and all three more than willing to rat out their partners in crime. All she really needed to do was finish filling it out, print it out, sign it and hand it in. It was what *wasn’t* in the report that was giving her pause.

She had been accepting help from the city’s vigilantes for months, the better part of a year. Technically, she should’ve reported it the first time, and had that be it. What they were doing was illegal. Truth be told, however, the police needed their help. There was too much going on in a city the size of New York for them to be everywhere they needed to be. Too much red tape and politics in some situations. Too many crooked cops to be ferreted out. As far as she saw it, they balanced out the crooked cops at least, and in that, she accepted their help readily. She’d never had one the arrests they assisted with be released, the charges always held. More often than not, they were helping average people, people that got looked over too much.

They were doing the city a service.

This was the first time she’d seen one of them, directly engaged, though. She’d talked with him plenty of times, getting arrest info. His voice always cool and calm, articulate and direct. Sometimes there was no one there to ask questions, but if there was, it was him. He’d never approached her before, though. It had taken all of her training not to empty her clip into him when he suddenly appeared at the perp’s feet. No one had been able to sneak up on her since she was a tiny child. It was unsettling, but also interesting. Why that night?

Obviously he had been there, waiting to talk to her. Sometimes he wasn’t, but why? She highly doubted that he worked alone, no one person had that much spare time. There had to be a few of them, at least. It was that thought that gave her pause, and she just hadn’t been able to pinpoint why. It was agitating her to have the feeling that she was missing something, not putting something together that she should be. 

Leonardo.

Such a unique name, and yet it seemed like she’d heard something like it before. Something similar that stood out. What could it be, though? Why would a first name stand out to her, not a last name? If anything it would’ve been his last name that-

With a gasp, something about the line of thinking reminded her of a recent arrest. Minimizing the window for the current report, she brought up the history of reports she had filed in the last few weeks. She scanned through the list quickly, not positive of what she was looking for, but certain she’d know it when she saw it. Scrolling down a bit, she clicked quickly on a report from almost two weeks prior.

Michelangelo Hamato. It hadn’t been her arrest, but she had filed the report when the arresting officer had to leave early. She remembered it clearly, the talkative, freckled blonde sitting handcuffed across from her. It was a simple arrest, nothing more than a vandalism charge for graffiti. Why was this Leonardo making her remember him? It had definitely been dark in the alley, but not so dark that it wasn’t obvious they looked nothing alike. Almost polar opposites by looks and demeanor.

Their first names, though. You just didn’t see names like that anymore, and certainly not first names. Renaissance first names. She didn’t have Leonardo’s surname, but he at least looked the part of fitting an Asian surname, whereas Michelangelo looked more the part of California surfer boy. Maybe it was just a coincidence, and she was reading too much into nothing, but something else still bothered her, as if it wasn’t the only thing she remembered.

Leaning forward in her chair, she pulled up the database search, set the pen between her teeth and typed “Hamato” into the search window. It brought up a fairly decent list of results, so she narrowed her results for that to include her badge number. Two results, one was the same arrest with Michelangelo, but the other was a report from almost two years prior. The names of arrested suspects didn’t flag any memories, so she pulled up the full report and began rapidly scanning through it.

It had been long enough before that she had mostly forgotten about the incident, but reading through plunged her mind into memory, bringing it up as vividly as if it had happened the day before. She had been a responding unit on a call to an injured kidnapping victim, with perps on scene. Blinking, she remembered the grizzly scene like it was out of a movie. There had been a large, African American male carrying the injured victim, a young white, brunette female. He had insisted on carrying her to the ambulance himself, staying the paramedics with nothing but a look and moving forward. Glancing at the victim name, she frowned. Anastasia Matthews. Neither Asian nor Renaissance. Maybe it had been one of those arrested? Nothing rang any bells there, either. It wasn’t until she got to the list of witnesses that her breath stopped.

Raphael Hamato.

The pen dropped out of her mouth, and she shoved her chair backwards, her eyes never leaving the screen. It couldn’t just be coincidence. Rolling back forward, she read through the witness report. Hamato had been questioned, insisting that she had managed to reach him by cell once freed by vigilantes. He didn’t know anything beyond what the police could tell from the scene, and no line of questioning would get anymore information out of him. There was a note in the file that stated “Looks like a brick wall and had the same amount of give. NFA”

No further action. There were no other ties to the perps, no other information on the vigilantes. Miss Matthews had suffered quite a few wounds, and stated that she remembered very little after the gang had started to injure her for information. She stated that they seemed to think she had information on another gang member that she did not, offering that maybe she looked like someone else.

Odd.

On a brief whim, looking at the file pictures and finding them more familiar than her memory served, she pulled the arrest record back up. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she got to the last page. Michelangelo’s release paperwork had been signed by a “Anastasia Hamato.” Thinking hard, she tried to remember the day of the arrest more clearly, but the station had been so busy, it was at shift change and during a slew of high priority calls. She could’ve sworn she remembered a brunette with a large African American male… but she wasn’t positive. It could simply be her imagination running with the onslaught of information she had just taken in. Pulling up the pictures the arresting officers had taken to see if they offered any confirmation to her thoughts, she gasped out loud.

On the graffiti-ed overpass was an elaborate design that included the vigilante kanji - “family.”

“Holy. Shit.”

Now it was making sense. It made so much sense and it almost brought a wave of embarrassment over her, like it had been staring straight at her and she’d been too blind to see it. Maybe it was how late it was, or her lack of caffeine. Either way her head felt heavy like solid lead with all these new inquiries and thoughts flooding in.  
Rubbing her temples in slow firm circles, she rested her elbows on her desk and shut her eyes. It was plain as day in her mind, but the dull ache behind her eyes protested and was damn sure to make her start doubting herself. Maybe it really was just late and she was looking too deep into it. Slowly opening her eyes, keeping them narrow in the bright light of her monitor, she blinked to try and focus on the names again. Reading them over what felt like a thousand times she let out a wry sigh, dropping her eyes to the time and let out another deeper sigh when she realised she should have left hours ago. Collecting up her files and folder, she paused again at her screen, chewing the inside of her cheek. No one else was around, but even then, she could just be printing off some extra papers for work. Maybe looking at them later at home after some fresh air would clear her train of thought. Standing up she quickly printed what she thought necessary, making sure to delete her printer history, not that she had anything to really hide right now. Sliding the still warm papers into her folders, shrugging her jacket on she took her leave, nodding to the janitor on the wayout.

Even on the drive home it plagued her mind. Names and faces, trying to match them with times and places, along with the voices that echoed in the back of her mind. Once inside, hooking up her coat and placing down the files on to the breakfast bar, she fought against the idea of staying awake to continue to work on cases. The bags under her eyes and lack of energy said otherwise, her head lulling even while she checked the door was locked. Ordering herself to bed, she tried to ignore the voice in her head that told her last night was the last time she stayed at the office late, and the time before that, and before that. 

“Tomorrow….” she muttered to herself, catching a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. “Tomorrow, I’ll work this out,” she repeated once in bed, still fighting the idea she had to sleep even until she dropped off.


	2. Family Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonardo is left feeling restless after meeting Kim and seeing the rest of the family interacting together. He's eager for a distraction, and one quickly presents itself in the form of an impromptu mission.

Early evening found the Hamato family comfortably scattered throughout the lair, the hour late enough to be past dojo hours and dinner, but still prior to any evening patrols. Many nights found them elsewhere, other locations, other obligations; but that night it was a house full. In a small nook he had created near his lab space, Donnie was comfortably settled with his head in Lily’s lap, her propped up on pillows and his long legs stretched up and resting against the wall as they both read books. Mikey had his headset on and was playing a videogame, laughing and talking from time to time, the one sided conversation holding little interest to anyone else in the space. Leo was off doing his pre-patrol meditations, as was his standard ritual. Raph was sat diagonally on one end of the sofa, one arm slung over the back of the couch with Stacey stretched out on the rest of the couch with her back against him comfortably. Smiling, she kissed the back of his hand as she looked at the scene in front of them.

On the floor, Splinter sat on one of his meditation pillows, stacking blocks with his granddaughter. He would stack blocks up slowly, encouraging her to help as she giggled, waiting for the right moment to crash the small tower over. He would gasp in overdramatic alarm, hand on his chest and she would erupt in belly laughter, face turning pink as she laughed. He couldn’t help the grin that followed, his crow’s feet stretching to his graying temples.

“Sera, what are you doing?” he asked as she watched him, still laughing. “You made it fall down, what are we supposed to do now?”

“Fix! Fix!” she proclaimed, picking up a block and putting it back atop another.

“Fix it, yes,” he answered, his smile never wavering as he resumed stacking the blocks. “Such a clever little girl, aren’t you?”

“It’s a normal milestone, dad,” Donnie said absentmindedly from the nook, not looking up from his novel as he spoke. Lily made a scoffing sound and swatted at his shoulder playfully, shaking her head as he turned his head up to look at her. “What?”

“She’s the most clever Hamato girl yet,” Splinter proclaimed, scooping her up above his head before she could crash their new tower. “No offense to your mother of course, but a grandfather can’t help but be partial.”

“None taken,” Stacey replied, giving the arm Raph had around her a squeeze, and feeling comforted by the squeeze he gave her in response. “I have a feeling she’s going to be a handful.”

“Ah, but who would we blame for that, hmmm?” Splinter asked rhetorically, lowering the one year old to nuzzle noses with her as she reached out and patted at his tied back hair.

“Raph,” came the chorus of answers around him, even as far away as the meditation area, followed by laughter.

Chuckling softly at Stacey’s wry comment about their daughter being a handful, Raphael could have easily replied with ‘like father like daughter’ or ‘it’s part of her wonderful charm’ but as usual he felt ganged up on. His soft smile quickly dropped and his brow knitted together with a snarl as he turned to glare at each of his visible brothers. “Hey! Ya ain’t meant to all agree!” he huffed, slumping back into his corner of the sofa only making both of his girls giggle at his pouting. 

“Not that it’s a bad thing, of course,” Stacey then hummed after controlling her laughter, turning to place a hand on his broad chest and grace his cheek with a light kiss. 

Upon hearing her father’s voice, Sera wiggled and clapped her tiny hands in his direction. Her smile only widening when his attitude faded away, his scarred lips turning into a wide grin when her eyes met his. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with takin’ after daddy now is there, princess?” Once released from her grandfathers hold, she was quickly and happily scooped up into Raph’s arms, her laughter infectious once she was being gently tickled. Blowing a raspberry against her soft belly, he had quickly grown used to his mess of dreadlocks being tugged on by her. His only worry was her getting tangled, but half the time she brought it on herself in a ploy to have more attention from him, not that he ever minded.

Now distracted from her reading, Lily closed her book and set it aside, sighing softly while watching the tender scene. Still lost in his book, Donnie continued his reading once the laughter had died down, only humming softly once he felt her fingers slowly brush through his mop of hair. She’d never thought about children, maybe once or twice before she started her courses in veterinary care, but work had taken the soul focus of her mind until recently. She’d never admit it but after Raph and Stacey brought their daughter home, those maternal thoughts had bubbled to the surface again. Science taught her that it was normal for her to feel this way, but that didn’t stop her from shunning her own mind. Maybe one day, but how many? Maybe one, or two? 

“You alright there, Lu?” Donnie asked quietly, brushing a hand against her arm.

Her skin flushed almost as red as her hair, blinking herself out of her thoughts and down to the bright silvery eyes below her. “Oh! Yes! I’m okay, my apologies… my mind wandered from my book.” Smiling softly, she toyed with his hair, ignoring the raised brow she was getting for being so pink in the cheek. 

“Sure?” 

“Positive.” 

Sitting up, careful not to catch his head on the low ceiling of the nook, Donatello shifted himself to look at her properly. “If you’re getting warm you can say…” he added a little awkwardly, reaching up to delicately touch her cheek. 

“You know I would do, but I’m very much content. However, let me get you another coffee. I’d like a chai tea right about now.”

Albeit reluctantly, she slid past him after neatly closing his book and adding it to the pile they kept on a shelf, only to have him tail her like a lost lamb. “No, you made me one last time, it’s my turn,” he protested, taking one long stride to get past her with a slightly smug grin. 

“But I thought I was your lab assistant, isn’t that my job, sir?” Dancing past him with a coy smile, she peered up at him from under her fringe and gracefully took his mug off of his desk before he even attempted to. Feeling the heat in his cheeks, his eyes watched hers as she shephered him to his desk, backing him up until he nearly tripped and fell into his chair. “It’s my pleasure to.” She was like a magical little pixie, always using her sweetness and smiles to get her way, but more often than not, he did so willingly. Bending at the hip, tucking a stray strand of her hair from her eyes, she softly kissed his nose before disappearing to the kitchen.

Watching her leave until she was out of view, Donnie let out a breathy sigh. Adjusting his glasses, he then ran a hand through his hair, realising the state she had left it in from playing with it. Clearing his throat, he swiveled around in his chair to properly face his desk and its many monitors. Nudging the mouse, a few activated from their screensavers, opening up to a page of many different camera feeds. Flicking through each section quickly, everything seemed normal. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing suspicious or curious. “Looks like patrol is going to be quiet tonight…” he muttered to himself, subconsciously adjusting his glasses again. He checked and double checked all the usual spots for activity before he was greeted by a hot mug of coffee being placed in front of him. 

Humming gratefully, he leaned into the kiss being placed on his cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Lifting the mug to his lips carefully, before he had chance to look up at Lily, his eyes caught something on one of the smaller screens. Squinting, he placed the mug down again, punching in a few keys to enlarge the camera feed to his main monitor. 

“Something wrong?” Lily murmured close to his ear, gently squeezing his shoulders, not wanting to alert anyone if it wasn’t anything important. 

“Possibly. Looks shady already…” he responded quietly, his eyes fixated and switching quickly between different camera angles and figures flashing up. “Maybe patrol will be a little exciting after all.”

Slowly rising from his meditations, rolling his body up in a smooth motion, Leo breathed deeply, trying to release the last tension out of his shoulders. It lingered, however, and his lips pressed in a line of disappointment. Meditation was something he had always had an aptitude for, and it ruffled his feathers that even something as simple as that was failing to bring him back to center. Stepping barefoot to the open doorway into the living space, he dropped a shoulder against the frame. The scene in front of him was bittersweet, causing lines in his forehead to match the grim line of his lips.

Leonardo couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t had purpose driving him. He had always wanted to perform well, finding satisfaction in being the model son, doing his best to give his brothers a worthy example to follow. In retrospect, that might’ve had better effect on Raph if he’d been the opposite, as he seemed forever determined to strike out separately from him. Not that it had served him poorly, he ruminated, looking at the small family he had made for himself. Raph didn’t need an example, he had just needed the space to be himself, find his own. Doubt etched deeply into the back of his mind, wondering if he had been wrong all those years, pushing him the way he had.

Mikey was playing videogames, talking to someone as he did so, quietly. Mikey talking quietly was only one of two things, conspiratorial or something he considered private; ‘his own’. Likely it had to do with the pink haired girl that had come round with him a few times in recent history. There hadn’t been any formal introductions yet, but something told him that was only a matter of time. He’d had girlfriends throughout high school, but nothing serious, more of moths to a flame. If he was being careful, it meant that he viewed this girl differently.

Splinter, his father, had such a look of pure joy on his face, one that erased the hard lines of pain from the years and replaced them with creases of joy. The introduction of his granddaughter had brought forth a side to him that was some bit different than they were used to. Once the small girl graced his arms with her presence, gone was the strict sensei they had grown up with, replaced with a man touched by years but a soul that was youthful once again. It was beautiful, honestly, but somehow just beyond his own grasp.

With a heavy sigh, he watched Lily exit the kitchen with two steaming mugs, moving in close to Donatello. From his station in front of the computer screens and the late hour of the day, he was certain his brother was scouting through camera feeds to determine if there was anything that deserved their attention directly that night, rather than simply running a standard patrol. He found himself hoping for that direction, feeling lost and needing that purpose. Smoothing his hands over his short ponytail, he unexpectedly found understanding in Raph, and his need for altercations that seemed to have tapered off to a significant degree. Had it been a lack of purpose all those years? Purpose that Leo had been given in spades, the dutiful son turned into leader?

Both Donnie and Lily stooped together at the same time, focusing on the same monitor that was blocked from view by their bodies. Seizing the opportunity to relieve himself of the grief of questioning his life choices, Leo walked over to the computer station, stepping wide to the opposite side of Donnie than Lily, so as not to startle them with his presence. Unlike his brothers, he tried remain aware of his ninja-silent movements, preferring not to unsettle the people they chose to bring into their lives.

“Something interesting come up on the feed?” he asked, attempting to view the same monitor without crowding space or seeming overbearing. He was well aware of the perception that he was overbearing, and honestly did his best to remain neutral while maintaining some kind of authority over the small group. It was a delicate balance and not for the faint of heart, as it was rarely appreciated.

“Mmm, down on the pier we’ve been keeping eyes on,” Donnie answered without looking up, hunching closer to the monitor before dedicating four monitors to the activity. One was live feed, the other four after some typing on his behalf, began rotating through short recorded clips. “The activity is all in the last 24 hours, but there’s been a significant increase in the last two hours. Cars, high end or desirable models go in, but none come out.”

“It is a pier warehouse,” Leo stated, well aware that Donatello was probably already working through the square footage of a space that size, and whether that many vehicles could fit inside. “Any chance we’ve just got a collector?”

“Down on the piers? Not a chance,” his brother scoffed, shaking his head. “The moisture off the water down there wreaks havoc on the car bodies, suspension and engines. No, they’d be using a far more advanced storage space for those cars to preserve them, keep them from oxidising. Besides, by the tally of vehicles, put up against their size specifications and the size of that small warehouse space-”

“We’ve got a chop shop?” Leo finished, the first real smile of the evening lifting one side of his mouth into a wry grin. Punching a fist into the palm of his other hand, he pivoted and started to jog off towards the gear room. “Everyone gear up! Looks like we need all hands on deck for tonight’s mission.”

Unlike in the past where the atmosphere would shift and pulse with energy, bodies springing to action as if they needed to be ready yesterday, no one really moved. Heads turned toward the sudden loud order over the silence, but not a whole lot of ‘gearing up’ happened. Raphael had barely registered anything had been said outside of the bubble he had with just him and his daughter. He still was happily captivated by her smile and laugh, now having her laid in his lap as he tickled her gently, repeating the same funny snarl that had her erupt with laughter every time. 

It even took Donnie a moment to peel away from his desk, but that wasn’t unusual for him, especially with Lily so joined at the hip. Making his final checks, then double checking them, he managed to pull himself free of his desk chair and turned to find his own gear. Luckily, his ‘assistant’ had already handed him his digital armband, holding it in her own palms with a bright smile. Around her neck were his headphones with the extra cables he needed for the rest of his equipment. “If I wasn’t heading out I’d say keep them on…” he murmured, leaning in to softly catch her lips as she softly hummed, keeping still as he removed them carefully.

As much as she didn’t want to bring an end to the beautiful scene in front of her, Stacey sensed there was an urgency in Leonardo now, given how quickly and eagerly he was to gather himself together. “Raph… babe, come on,” she softly giggled, unable to keep her tone even with how Sera patted at her father’s cheeks. 

“Yeah, I heard…” he replied, his eyes not leaving Sera’s while he continued to grin and make playful grizzly faces at her to which she tried to mimic. Moving in close, making her own disgruntled face at Sera which only made her laugh more, Stacey smoothly stole her from Raph’s lap. 

“Come on, all hands on deck.” 

Grumbling with a sincere scowl, he sat on the edge of his seat on the couch, running a hand through his dreadlocks to tame them back out of his face for a few seconds. “Ugh, really?” 

“Yes. Really,” a voice from behind him clarified. 

“Ain’t three enough?” he protested, sulking more like Mikey than his usual prickly self. 

“Don’t worry, me and lil’ monster will be here waiting when you return.” Nuzzling against Sera as she gently bumped her head against her shoulder tiredly, Stacey smiled up at him with an expectant eyebrow lift that he could never refuse. It was the look he got before she put her foot down. The look when he knew he couldn’t get out of it and would only suffer more if he continued. 

“Fine…” Heaving himself up, he ignored the low chuckle from his father as even Mikey was ready before him for once. Brushing past his wife, he muttered about being picked on as usual as he tamed his tendrils back loosely in a low tail, only getting a roll of her eyes and shake of her head in response. Tugging the straps of his arm guards tight, fastening the belts and buckle over his shoulders and waist, he cracked his neck before fixing his faded red bandana. Inhaling deep, he ran a finger along the wooden frame in the brick wall, hesitating before wielding his sai from their place. Spinning both around in each hand, he let out a satisfied growl before slotting them down into the belts on his waist. Switching to a different frame of mind, he then felt he wanted to go. He had something to protect after all. 

Sauntering out to group with the others, he bumped a fist against Mikey’s without looking to greet his grin in return. “So, leader, lead the way,” he sneered, his lips twitching into a smirk as his eyes fell and caught Stacey’s, flashing her a wink while he squared his shoulders. 

***

Parked not too far from the docks, along a road that linked the warehouses together in neat rows, Kimay’a sat silently in her car. Dropping her head back against the rest, she let out a slow and controlled sigh. She had been patrolling most of the night but had entirely forgotten why she had even offered. Maybe it was because a chest wrenching feeling had started to make her feel sick, feeling boxed in and crowded by the busy office of the station. It was nice to get out of there, as she rarely did, even if it was just driving in circles for a few hours. More often than not, she found herself with piles of paperwork, because she knew she was the only one in the office who didn’t grimace when faced with it. That and she didn’t cut corners to get it done.

Nothing had come in on the radio. Just mundane chatter, updates on other patrols or simple check-ins with her other officers. It was a quiet night. Even if there were shady after hours things going on, all she had to do was slowly drive by and they’d disperse into the night again. Taking a short break, she had pulled over to breathe for a moment. Others did so why couldn’t she? Tilting her head, the light of the docklands dancing across the calm waters catching her eye she watched it contently. It was soothing. Even if it was mildly distorted through the wire mesh fence, and shipment containers, but the small window was enough for now.

***

The four men moved silently through the harbor district, all joking, teasing and getting the messing around out of their systems on their way out, from the distanced safety of the rooftops. Well, Leo’s brothers had gotten it out of their systems on the way. He had silently tolerated it with only brief commands for silence and focus. Singularly minded, he was lost entirely in his own mind, thinking of the docks and the chop shop. There was no time or place for that nonsense, not on a mission. The irritation bound the muscles in his neck and shoulders, and he had tried to breathe evenly and relax them as the moved along. It piled on top of the irritation he had felt back at home, but he shoved those thoughts far away into the depths of his mind, he could deal with them later.

Right now was his time, he was in charge and they had a purpose. A purpose that was built on the foundation of excited uncertainty and almost ritualistic repetition. They had been on numerous missions over the years, and the adrenaline rush as they headed into one never waned. Even when they had a decent amount of information, there was always a decent amount of unknown. The basics were the same, get in quietly, take the criminals down as quickly and effortlessly as possible, restrain them and contact authorities. 

That thought actually managed to derail his focus momentarily. Bright gold eyes behind the fringe of dark hair, pressed under a uniform hat. He gave his head an abrupt shake, glancing back at his brothers as if worried they could read his thoughts. No admission of guilt had escaped him after his last meeting with her, not even to his father. After granting her request of his name, he had a similar adrenaline rush as he felt at that moment, the rush of heading into the unknown. Even meditating on it, he couldn’t understand why he would be so reckless as to tell her, but at the same time, he didn’t regret it. Part of him hoped she would be on the responding team that night, just so he could see if he felt any guilt upon seeing her again or not. But if she was, it was likely at least one of his brothers would stick around until the police around, after a bust of that size, and if they found out… he’d never hear the end of it. His reputation and hold as leader would be put to mocking, even more than they already did.

Shaking it off, he redirected his focus on the mission with dedicated accuracy. He could not change what would be, only how he reacted to it. Above all else, he’d at least have the opportunity to unsheath his swords and release some of his pent up frustration. He would never admit it to Raph, but his brother was right. Sometimes you just needed to knock some skulls together.

Gesturing for them to slow a bit as they reached the shipping containers, he was content that he couldn’t hear the ringing of metal beneath any of their feet, not even the continually clumsy Michelangelo. He began to have a good feeling about the bust, like it was just what they all needed to set everything right and for it to feel normal again, the way it was. If he had taken the chance to reflect on that thought more deeply, he would likely have discovered that it was a projection of his own thoughts and feelings, but he allowed himself to simply be content with the thought as they moved in on the hangar.

Finding an obscured corner amongst the shipping containers once up close, they huddled around Donnie as he showed them a map of the area outside the building, anyone on the outside outlined in red. They must have grown into a sense of complacency, there only being one man watching the front door and two off the main hangar door, smoking with assault rifles strapped to their backs. There was a rear entrance, blocked off to traffic by containers, but absolutely not blocked off to ninjas. Coming up with a quick plan, he had Donnie go to the rear to deal with whatever lock was on it, sent Mikey and Raph to deal with the two by the hangar, and set off to take care of the one in front himself. He ignored the offended look from Raph when he instructed two of them to take care of two men. The look was interrupted as Mikey took off to get to them first, and Raph had to take off to catch up so as not to miss his chance. They’d meet Donnie around the back once it was cleared.

As he crept silently to the front corner of the building, he peered around it at the sole guard. Looking bored and put out, likely pulling the short straw to be there, he was swinging binoculars back and forth on their string. Stepping back into shadow, Leo picked up a stray bolt, tossing it at a nearby shipping container. It was an old trick, but it worked almost flawlessly. The guard walked slowly past the corner, cautiously stepping towards the containers, away from Leo. Once the moment presented itself, he moved up behind him without a whisper of sound except the small *shick* of his blades releasing. Bringing both the hilts down hard on the back of the guard’s head before he could even turn, he dropped unconscious to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Leo deftly moved him off where he couldn’t be seen, whispering, “Have a nice nap.”

At the back door, he arrived just after Mikey and Raph, the latter shoving at the former for some reason or another. Glaring at them, they both shrugged, unapologetic. Donnie was already inside, having propped the door open just enough for them to notice, and once they entered, they found him working on a control panel of sorts just away from the door. “It’s a basic system,” he whispered, looking back and forth from his holo to the panel. “I already have the security disabled, I’m ready when you guys are to shut down the lights.”

“Let’s do this,” Raph growled, the smile of anticipation lighting up his face just before the dim lighting shut off. There was shouting and hollering coming from the main hangar, and they fanned out, taking different positions as they made their way to the only door that could lead the criminals to their inevitable fate.

One man burst through the door with a flashlight, cursing and muttering about fuses and having to do things himself. There was a brief struggle of his flashlight shining rapidly around the back area before it went out and there was no more sound. After a few minutes and more yelling at the man to shit or get off the pot, two more men burst through the door, one with a flashlight, one with a rifle. Leo moved to grab the one with the flashlight, as he was closest, getting into a brief struggle, the large man fighting back before Leo kicked the back of his legs hard, causing the man to land on the back of his head with a sickening crack. As he popped back up, he winced as the other man got a short burst of bullets off towards the ceiling, the muzzle flash flickering light across Raph’s snarling face as he lurched forward to headbutt the man. 

There was a small thump as the man hit the ground from the impact, but the damage was done. “Gigs up, dudes,” Mikey whispered, swinging down from a rafter to the door. “We go in swinging?”

“Move in fast, spread out away from the door where they won’t expect us,” Leo ordered in a harsh whisper.

“Thanks, Capn’ obvious,” Raph grunted, shouldering past him to quickly get through the door. Leo allowed himself an exaggerated eye roll into the dark before following his brothers into the room now filled with the clicks of guns being loaded and flashlights moving around. “Go in swinging,” he whispered, rolling off to the side past the door and becoming one with the shadows, as was their way.

***


	3. Murphy's Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are out on a mission and it just so happens that Kim is in the neighborhood.

Kim wasn’t sure how long she had been watching the light dance, but her concentration on it wavered a little and she noticed a familiar scrawl of graffiti along the shipping container. Squinting a little, focusing harder through the blurs of the fence, the image focused to be that of the symbol from the vigilantes. The kanji for family. It had often appeared in photo evidence, suddenly materialising on walls after she knew they had been around during a raid, or where they had been alerted to wanted criminals being apprehended. It used to put her on edge, before she fully understood and could appreciate what it truly meant to her. Now when the fresh smell of the paint was in the air, it calmed her, knowing in the shadows she had that support. 

The echoes of distant gunfire brought her out of her daydream, her eyes snapped open as she sat bolt upright. Listening carefully as the nose faded away, she tried to pinpoint where it came from. Holding her breath as she listened, she started to doubt she actually heard anything until a single shot rang out. That was all she needed to start the ignition, pulling away urgently to head toward the origin of the gunfire. Calling for backup didn't seem necessary, not until she knew or sensed it was truly needed. It could possibly be controlled by just her, if it was a situation where the people were thinking rashly, but how often was that the case in this city? If it had been a few single shots, maybe it could have been just a shooting range but given the area she was in it was highly unlikely.

Pulling up alongside a shipping yard, she noticed how even though the main gates were closed, there seemed an awful lot of activity below at the main hangar. Crawling to a complete stop, cautious not to be too heavy handed with her vehicle and alert anyone, she watched and studied the surroundings carefully. This area of the docks wasn’t busy anymore, mostly used for storage or building work and so it was usually abandoned. Even with that being the case, routine checks were done, or so she had been assured. The fact a secondary entrance had been made further down from the original didn’t fill her with much confidence. When she saw the state of the place in the dark taking into consideration the added gunfire, she found herself entirely sure something nefarious was going on. Something far out of her control alone.

***

Charging blindly into the room, Raphael figured a head on surprise would be the best choice of action against men with loaded rifles. It worked to a certain a degree, with the men in the frontline having little time to react before having their jaws smashed in by a flying kick. While in the air, Raph grabbed another man, yanking him down by his collar heavily as he landed, his skull cracking against the concrete floor. Their targets were barely visible, mere shadows in the dark, causing the men to panic. Raising their weapons with limited vision made it easier for them to be disarmed, their raised voices and hollering for backup disorientated them further. One by one, more of the men fell, either with a painful crash against a metal shelving unit or simply consumed by the darkness in disturbing silence. 

It didn’t take long for word of the attack to spread throughout the entire hangar, each partitioned area springing to life to stand their ground. The few who had keys to working cars were ordered to fire up, lighting up the hangar with their headlights. Cursing under his breath, Donnie ducked low, keeping out of sight of the piercing beams of light. “Not good. Someone needs to take them out!” he exclaimed through a harsh whisper, sensing now he may have miscalculated the size of the mission, the numerous amount of men was quickly growing out of hand. Sure, they had taken on worse, but that was one direct target, not multiple spread sporadically throughout a blacked out warehouse.

“Got it,” Raph growled through his teeth, launching a shuriken through a gap in the shelves into one headlight, catching one of the men across the back of the hand causing him to drop his weapon. Smirking to himself, he tossed another, this time without the bonus of another hit on a man. “One down, Mikey can you-” 

“Already on it!” 

Knitting his brow together, he made a face when he realized his brother was further away than he had expected. Carefully peering around their cover,he noticed Mikey had crept around to flank them. He may have been the clumsiest of the four of them, but he sure knew how to sneak when it suited him. Letting out a raspy chuckle as he saw two men suddenly swept off their feet, their heads collided with a loud crack before slumping to the floor. The pride was short lived as he heard a gunshot fired toward their brother, that was thankfully a miss due to lack of vision. “They’re flanking. Take ‘em out!” 

About to charge again, Raph clenched his jaw, ready to leap before he was yanked back down. Ready to swing a fist at what he assumed was his eldest sibling, he hesitated when he was met by a hazy purple glow. “Uh guys? We got bogeys incoming. Police are surrounding the docks. They’ve been alerted to activity here, but it wasn’t me that called it in,” he muttered quickly, his holo map flashing up small warnings with a voice recording on repeat of a call out to any officers in the immediate area.

Dropping from a hangar beam, Leo caught it with a firm grip to stop his descent. Swinging his weight back and forth to gain momentum, he finally let go and planted two feet against the back of one of the car thieves, launching him into the pair of men ahead of him. If he hadn’t just heard Donnie’s news about incoming police, he’d have found more macabre joy in the human dominos. As it was, they weren’t making enough progress. The chop shop was far more organized than they had expected, and far more active.

Donnie was keeping them apprised of the situation, with Raph and Mikey doing their part to get the cars cleared and the headlights back out. They had to keep the hangar dark if they had any chance at keeping the upper hand, and if they wanted to get out unnoticed. It was time for him to do his part, and that was to think and strategize on the move. There was no time to dwell on the fact that maybe he had jumped on the opportunity too quickly, not having Donnie up the surveillance for a period of time to get a better idea of what had been going on. He had let himself make a rash decision, and now he’d have to make up for it by coming up with a better solution for the mess he’d gotten them into.

Spinning and swinging backwards against the headlights of the nearest car, he broke them out with the hilts of his katana. The woman in the car revved the engine, dropping it aggressively into drive before letting it lurch forward. Jumping upright and landing on the hood, he turned to run up the windshield, jumping back up into the steel beams that served as rafters. Maybe it seemed too simple, or too easy, but he realized it was their best bet. No one would think to look up first, and even if they did, there was no way to angle the headlights in that direction. “Make it rain, boys!” he called out, using their code for attacks made from above. It wasn’t ideal and there was a burst of gunfire that followed in his general direction after speaking, but he didn’t have time to let them know quietly. 

There were shouts as the remaining men in the hangar fell into disorganization and fear, not having anywhere to direct their attack. Off to his left, he heard Donnie’s staff spring off, followed by a grunt and the sound of a body slumping to the floor. To his right, he heard the links of chain between Mikey’s nunchaku against a beam, followed by someone slamming against a car as he hung himself down to kick. Ahead of him, he heard Raph’s boots hit the concrete, followed by the unmistakable sounds of fists and elbows against flesh before it was abruptly silent from his direction. They each had their own tactics when it came to attacking from the beams, but it appeared to be working. The floor was in complete chaos, and he noticed the front door open, some men choosing to escape rather than to stick around in the dark chambers.

After swinging himself down towards a man using a car door as a shield, Leo kicked the door, cracking the man’s head against the frame before swinging back up. Hoped burned in his chest, ousting the fear that they may have bitten off more than they could chew. It would take longer than expected, but they had a chance.

A chance and hope that sank into the pit of his stomach when he saw a flashlight come through the front door, held with crossed wrists and a pistol. Behind it was the unmistakable uniform of a New York police officer, and an all too familiar face. The timing was poor, they hadn’t made it to the far side of the hangar yet; more and more of the thieves were headed towards escape and were more than close enough to note her arrival. No doubt the ones that had leaked out before them had drawn her in after the gunfire, and he hoped she was part of a larger force going in, and not by herself. As the door was kicked towards her from the darkness behind it, and no one became evident as she staggered, he cursed under his breath.

“NYPD ETA?” he barked at Donnie, running expertly along the beams, swinging himself around the supports and landing on the other sides of them, never skipping a beat.

“Imminent, they’re at the fence line!” Donnie shouted back, confirming his fear that she was alone.

“Dammit, Humadee,” he swore quietly, moving as quickly as he could.

Protocol taught her to wait for backup. It taught her not to charge into the fray and take on an army alone. Even if there was a high risk situation, she was forced to stand back and watch. Even higher authority drove her back, shortening her leash when they knew damn well they had the power to stop or catch a fugitive. Help and save innocent lives, but they just couldn’t be bothered with more paperwork and the detective work. Leave them to suffer. They brought it on themselves, anyway, seemed to be their thought process. Kimay’a couldn’t sit by and let it happen. If she could help, even if it was just simple reconnaissance, she would put herself on the front line. Backup had been called, but they would take their time. Nothing was ever a hurry these days, especially with a team of vigilantes doing most of the dirty work. They just had to turn up, clean up and head home. 

Clenching her jaw, darting her eyes back and forth from the road to the warehouse, she impatiently waited knowing it’d be minutes before anyone appeared. Too much could happen before then and she was already itching to do something. Cursing herself as she headed out of her car, she made sure her pistol was loaded before advancing. She knew it was a risk, but the echo of gunfire and panicked shouting was drawing her in. Ignoring it without any information would only cripple her later with paperwork, having no leads or knowledge to its origin. Keeping out of sight was easy enough, the low lighting and panic from the few men that escaped kept her hidden. They were either the weaker links of the pack or something had them spooked. Raising her weapon and flicking the switch of her flashlight, she drew in a sharp breath and soldiered on. 

She hadn’t expected to have a clear entry, but the door being thrown in her direction still caught her off guard, sending her pulse racing. Hearing the familiar voice from the darkness brought brief relief, the fact she wasn’t truly alone giving her a boost. The chaos of the hangar didn’t give her much confidence though. It was utter disarray. Unusual considering the vigilantes mostly kept mayhem under control, leaving no need for riot vans. That night was different. 

Ducking down behind cover, it didn’t take her long to notice her flashlight wasn’t needed. Car lights pierced the darkness and illuminated every shadow. Having been on enough raids and lucky enough to be aided by the team of hidden warriors, she had learnt they worked in the dark. They used the lack of vision in their targets to their advantage, eluding and turning the tables in an otherwise uneven fight. That time they didn’t have the luxury and by the look of the situation, they had been forced to retreat. 

Thankful her cover hadn’t been blown yet, luck being the thieves disorganized by fear, she shifted to get a better angle. Staying low behind stacks of crates filled with car parts, Kimay’a raised her weapon to line up her shot of the headlights. She wasn’t a bad shot, but not the best either. Breathing slowly and steady, she knew she only had one chance not to blow it. Squinting from the light, she fired once, ignoring the startled cry ringing out through the hangar before firing again. Suddenly they were shrouded in darkness again, the blackout from the car causing the most havoc. Slamming her back against the crates, shrinking down and keeping her pistol raised, she braced herself for the inevitable. Listening carefully to the mixed reactions, most of the men feared what would come for them from the shadows, and the others directed their attention to whoever had sealed their fate. Even with the sound of their comrades falling behind them, two men stalked toward her direction. The distant sound of sirens only fueled their hunt, being less tactical in their efforts to navigate their way through the shadows.

“If that’s a fuckin’ pig, they better fuckin’ squeal when I catch them.” 

Tensing up, she held her breath, his voice dangerously close to her position. Thinking fast, she tossed her flashlight away, turning the attention of one of them away long enough to sweep his legs out from under him with a low kick. The other man swung high as she stood up, only throwing his weight past her when she dodged and slammed an elbow into his upper back. If she could help it, she’d opt out of firing another bullet, but having the option taken away as the gun was kicked from her hand was alarming. Staggering from the force, she quickly braced herself for another hit as the first man she took down sprang back up. Raising her arms to block his punches, she kept her body moving, making his hits less direct on her already bruising arms. However, she was too focused on avoiding his attacks, and it left her open to being flanked. The other man had now risen from the ground, skulking into the shadows, unbeknownst to her.

The clang of something falling behind her drew her attention away just long enough to let him drive a punch up into her gut, forcing a painful gasp of air out of her throat. Before she could recover, the force of a charging rhino slammed her into the side of a car, erupting another cry as she dropped heavily to the floor. Gasping desperately for air, clutching her abdomen, her vision blurred from the hard impact, she tried to at least shift herself up on to one knee. Blinking to try and focus again, she grit her teeth and growled as they approached her, like a wounded tiger, cornered and not ready to back down. 

“Oh even better, it’s scarface herself,” one of them sneered, slapping the other on the shoulder as they both laughed. “Came back so we could fuck up the other cheek, huh?” the other taunted, wielding something that look like an oversized wrench as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Now be a good lil piggy and keep fuckin’ still, or I’ll take your teeth out instead…” 

Refusing to show fear even when her chances of escaping unscathed were bleak, she kept her hard stare focused on the man in front of her, ignoring the other man's jeering.

It was taking Leo too long to get across the hangar; having to stop to intervene with men headed her way after she fired her gun hadn’t helped. His teeth clenched as she was slammed into the car, and took a moment to look for any way to get to her faster. There were some electrical conduits running in that direction that were fairly lightweight. Donnie wasn’t handy to give him any feedback on whether it would hold his weight or not, so he just went for it, intending to swing across it like monkey bars. 

It wasn’t strong enough, turned out, but it actually worked out in his favor. As the supports gave, they leaned towards the floor. Grabbing a katana with it’s a sheath, he swung his weight just right to get it over the conduit, grabbing either end with his hands, creating a makeshift zipline right to where he wanted to be - where he needed to be. Yanking down as he neared the car she was cornered against, the conduit finally broke, showering him in sparks as he landed on the roof the car. 

The light danced around him like sizzling fireflies, a snarl set on his face as he let the eyes of the two men focus on him briefly before launching himself over her at them. Planting his feet solidly against the chest of the man closest to her, he rode him down to the ground, feeling the air slam out of his lungs as he let his weight crush him down onto the concrete. He dodged a swing from the second man, cracking him across the back of the head with his sheathed katana before stomping on the back of his knee, folding him forward like a house made of cards. Pivoting to face the man from behind, he stooped to link the sheathed weapon across his throat, folding the hilt in one elbow and the rounded end in the other, resting his arms against the top of the man’s shoulders before lifting him off the ground by the neck. He squeezed tightly, his resolve to make the man pass out not faltering with his struggling. Leaning his mouth close to his ear, he snarled, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you it isn’t polite to call names?” When the man finally went slack, he let him slump to the floor, checking the immediate vicinity for any other men willing to try their chances, but near as he could tell in the dark (which was better than most) more of them were choosing to flee with the threat of police imminent.

He finally let his attention fall to the officer, bent with pain and an arm around her midsection, but standing up as much as possible with fierce determination. “Take it easy,” he whispered, holding her shoulder gently as he looked her over the best he could, looking for anything externally life threatening. “That was a bad hit you took. Are you okay?”

Wide eyed and trembling, too startled and in shock mostly from how effortlessly he had taken out both men. Not that it was fear that held her words captive, more the sheer relief of not being beaten down like a dog again. She was astonished that he could even spare her even a thought while so otherwise preoccupied with the rest of the chaos. If it had been her own comrades, she’d just be counted as ‘an unavoidable casualty’. 

The touch of his careful hand on her shoulder had her tense, but only for a moment when her limited vision picked up it was him. Even with the shroud of darkness around them, his eyes were bright and intense, emitting an icy blue glow that seemed like something from her imagination. His form was merely a shadow against the dim light from the outside world, nothing clear and no details, just hazy shapes aside from his eyes so perfectly sharp in contrast. It must have been her spinning head. No one could possibly have natural glowing eyes, but that was countered by the vision of their last meeting. She had seen it with a clear mind, as well.

Trying to steady her breathing, her lips struggled to form any coherent words, still too in awe of what she had just witnessed. Before she could manage to speak out the words finally appearing in her throat, she was cut off by a sharp whistle. “Fearless, we’re out!” Flinching a little at the booming voice from the dark, she was suddenly intensely aware of how loud the sirens were of her backup, finally arriving and screeching to a halt in the courtyard.

Before another attempt could be made to speak, her savior had vanished almost as if he had never been there to begin with. “No,” she whispered to herself, cursing herself for hesitating. “No no, stop…” Finally finding her voice, she called to the dark and spun on her heels, her heart raising and reviving her second wind. “Come back!” Catching a flash of something darting along the rafters, a silhouette against the windows now a flash of blue and red, she took chase after it. Praying that she would somehow find her footing and find a clear path in the dark, she blessed the riot police and their abrupt entry for the first time. Beams of light shot through the hangar as orders to freeze and drop any weapons were barked out. Keeping low and finding her way through the fallen shelves and shipment crates, she avoided being detected and slipped through a fire escape that many of the men had previously fled from.

Outside she desperately searched for any sign of the vigilantes, about to call out in hope she’d be heard amongst the sirens but was thrown a lifeline. Following the noise of something heavy landing on top of a shipping container, she sprinted through the metal maze to try and catch up. A clatter of chains gave her another boost of speed, recognizing the familiar sound of someone stumbling ahead of her. Her chase came to an abrupt stop, her path closed by rows of containers set in opposing lines, cutting her off entirely. Not about to give up, Kimay’a called out again, even through the pain in her abdomen and hoarse throat. “Stop! Please... Leonardo, please!” The effort and emphasis on his name made her cough, screwing her eyes shut from the dryness ripping her throat, hunching over as she panted.

Gathering himself up, Raphael growled at his younger brother for throwing his pace out, landing too close to him and forcing him to stumble. “Idiot,” he snarled quietly through gritted teeth, only getting a toothy grin thrown back at him as he raced on ahead. Picking up speed again, he vaulted the gap to the other row of containers, using a sai to grip and pull himself up effortlessly. He hadn’t the pleasure of getting his rhythm back yet, when a voice called out so pained from behind. It took them all by surprise, especially given it was Leo’s name. “Whoa whoa whoa," he ushered out, sliding to a halt as did the others and raised a hand. “The fuck is she calling you for?” he snapped in a harsh whisper, arms raised and open waiting for an explanation. Donnie and Mikey exchanged a bewildered look between one another, just as confused as Raphael was before they turned to their leader for his response, panting as lightly as possible so they could hear him easily in the forced silence.

The hits just kept on coming, he couldn’t catch a break. It was as if he were being punished for something, being shown how he was failing and making bad choices. His fists clenched, feeling physically torn between going back to Officer Humadee, hearing the pain and urgency in her voice. Following them at the speed she had couldn’t have been easy in her condition, and he felt the obligation, the need, the desire to go back and answer her, to check on her again. 

At the same time, he wanted to run. Run away from her, run away from the botched mission inside the hangar, run away from the judging and curious eyes of his brothers… just away. Away from it all. Somewhere quiet where he could think, be himself, and not have to be so damn responsible for everything around him. Not that he could. Obligation and responsibility were like water and air to him, something he was made of and required to function. There was never any getting away from it.

Just then, it was finding a balance in an impossible situation. He had to come up with a quick, concise answer that would satisfy his brothers to back off, and to go see Humadee, to see what he needed to answer there. Smoothing his short ponytail, he brusquely ran a hand down his face before confronting the amber eyes burning through him. Taking a step back, raising both hands to seem less confrontational (the last thing he wanted was yet another fight with Raph), he answered, “She knows my first name, okay? Simple as that. It’s the same officer that comes to pick up our bagged perps at least 75% of the time.”

“Ohhhh,” Mikey chimed in, nodding in realization. “The one with the eyes kinda like Raph and the wicked face scar? She’s badass.”

Squinting his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose, Leo did his best to forget what his youngest brother had just said. The last thing in the world he wanted was any kind of comparison made of her towards Raph. “Look, I don’t want to do this right now, right here-”

“Too fuckin’ bad! It’s happenin’!” Raph growled, his control over his volume slowly devolving. His shoulders were rolling forward, and he showed no signs of backing off. Not at all what he wanted or needed right then.

“This isn’t the place!” Leo snapped back, meeting his brother’s fiery glare with an icy one. “I will explain it at home but right now, we need to not get caught. I am going back to see if she’s okay, she was injured pretty badly. I am not discussing it. You three are going to get out of here before they start searching the area. Got it?”

Raph’s lip curled up into a defiant snarl, Donnie did his best to look interested in his armband and Mikey shrugged, cuffing Raph’s arm. “Come on, dude. Pick this fight at home. I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t be mad, just maybe not here.”

Raph twisted his arm away from Mikey, giving him a spurned glare. “Fine. But if you get your ass pulled into the station for questionin’, you’re on your fuckin’ own, Leo.” Pivoting on his heel, he made no attempt to muffle his movement as he ran off the container, calling out their position to anyone within earshot. Even though he knew it was done intentionally to get under his skin, it still worked, prickling Leo’s skin with tensely bridled anger.

“Same ol’, same ol’,” Mikey quipped, moving to follow. “Go see your lady friend.” Winking, he ran off silently, yanking Donnie along by the arm and getting quiet protests for the effort.

Sighing heavily, Leo smoothed his ponytail nervously, and adjusted his gear before sprinting silently back to the direction he had come, coming in wide of the officer so he didn’t drop in right over her head. He tried to shake off his concern about why she would’ve followed them like that, yelling for him before jumping down, taking a few meditative breaths to calm himself. She was coughing and leaning against the shipping container in pain, her fists clenched. Guilt hit him heavily, feeling completely responsible for her condition.

“Officer Humadee,” he greeted quietly, walking calmly out of the darkness between containers, keeping his arms slack at his sides, though he couldn’t keep his face from being painted in concern. “You really should be seeking medical attention.”

Breathing wasn’t getting any easier, partly because she was starting to panic. Panic that she had made the stupid and rash decision to chase down a group of ninjas that now jeopardized her own health and safety. Why she ever thought it’d be an obtainable goal was beyond her. Maybe she really had the sense knocked out of her along with the air from her lungs that still escaped her. About to give in and make her way back, she pushed herself up slowly with a wince, the aching from her abdomen pulling in all the wrong places. Hearing her name only made her jolt, still not fully cognizant enough to register him approaching her from the shadows, even with warning. “It... i-it can wait,” she croaked out, determined to actually speak to him this time.

“But you can barely stand, I just think it’s-” 

“Don’t. Don’t tell me what to do…” she snapped, grimacing at her own temper and reaction to his kind advice. It was not what she wanted. Not what she envisioned when she wanted to talk to him properly and hopefully face to face for the first time. “S-sorry. I just - I want... to thank you.” Managing finally to stand up straight, she kept a hand fixed on her stomach, protecting the tender area she had been hit on. Taking a few deep breaths, she felt a cold shiver down her spine when she noticed that even when she stood upright he still loomed over her. 

“There’s no need to thank me, it’s just what we do.” 

“I refuse to accept that. I know you do a thankless job... no one realizes or understands the work you do for this city… but I do.” A hitch in her throat forced her to cough painfully again, hunching her over as she covered her mouth with a hand. Hating how weak she looked in this state, she wished it could have been different and that there was a way to start again. Kimay’a feared it would damage his attitude toward her. It wasn’t like her to show weakness, physical or not, but to show it to someone she held such respect for nearly crippled her further. “I apologize... for keeping you here. Don’t let a cop be the reason you get caught… go.”

Leo found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. Her response was mixed, both defensive and appreciative. The defensive, he could understand; it was a tense situation and she was obviously in pain. The appreciative caught him off guard, however. He couldn’t disagree with her, it was a thankless job, but it was something they had mostly come to terms with in their youth. The fact that she felt strongly enough about it to chase after him, was shocking, but she had also rebuked any response he had tried to come up with, likely from her defensive stance.

Lips pressed firmly together, he took a quick look around to make sure no one was moving in on them before dropping to a hovering crouch in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder like he had done inside the hangar. “Don’t apologize. It really should be me… I’m sorry you got hurt, and I’m sorry I can’t see you off to the help you need,” he said slowly, carefully to make sure he didn’t make her feel any more defensive. “Thank you. Thank you for recognizing what we do.”

Her bright eyes finally caught his, the edges creased in pain but still widened by surprise. “It’s not your fault.”

The hard line of his expression ticked towards a frown, and he averted his eyes from hers, shaking his head. “More mine than you likely realize. But that’s a conversation for a different place, a different time. Do you need assistance back into the building, to the other police? Are there EMTs?”

“Leonardo, go,” she insisted, a leveling seriousness to her tone that left him unable to disregard. She coughed again, groaning, but didn’t reel away from him assisting in keeping her steady. “I’ve got my radio. I’ll call for help, tell them I was chasing one of the guys who got out but lost him. Just go, you can’t get caught because of me.”

With a heavy sigh, he nodded and raised himself back up to his full height. He did another quick check, and noticed flashlights heading out of the building in their general direction. It was the small boost of incentive he needed to actually leave, as much as he hated leaving her in the yard, mostly defenseless in her position. He’d be no help to her arrested, and it would only lead to the likely ruin of his family and everything they had accomplished. Silently, he swung himself up on top of the nearest crate, pausing at the top to glance down at her. “Officer?” he said quietly, ignoring his pounding heart as he heard voices getting closer. She looked up, obviously alarmed that he wasn’t already gone. “Take a break, heal up. You work too much.”

Looking panicked, she turned her head to see how close the other officers were getting, but before she could look back, he was already gone. Navigating the concrete and metal jungle silently, even if his mind was anything but. 

Kimay’a couldn’t tear her eyes away from where he had disappeared, stunned into silence at how close he had come to being seen just to tell her to take it easy. Part of her wished he had stayed, but it was a selfish want that made her stomach turn, her eyes dropping to the ground when it wrenched viciously from the pain. 

The interaction and her state of being left her in even more of a daze, and she hunched over further, finally letting the pain take over her body as the adrenaline faded away. No longer able to fight it, she wanted nothing more than to hide away with a glass of wine and recover at her own pace. Not that she ever had the delight of having so much free time to finish a glass, often too tired to, finding it on the coffee table in the morning still half full. Any form of peace and quiet seemed welcome to her then. Anywhere away from the whining of sirens and pestering questions from her back up. 

Being ordered to go to the hospital was about the only way to get her there, needing someone to physically drive her and walk her through the door, just in case she bypassed it when dropped outside. She hated it. The sterile smell alone made her feel worse than she already did. She wasn’t in a critical condition, told to take pain killers and rest, which brought her mild relief. She was thankful she could simply be discharged quickly. Unfortunately, it did still come with the dreaded questions that always seemed to raise their ugly head when doctors looked into her records.

“How are things, regarding your-” 

“Fine. It’s fine,” she snapped coldly, cutting the doctor off, averting her eyes as she reeled a little from the abrupt response. 

“Miss Humadee, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. It’s been a while since your last checkup, long past the recommended time.” 

“I’m not in pain anymore, so I don’t technically need to come in to be told what I already know. There is no issue with it. It’s heeled, I can eat, I can move. It’s in the past.” 

Letting out a small sigh, the doctor closed the file, accepting she wouldn’t be getting any compliance from the already agitated patient. It had been a long and painful recovery after all, so she couldn’t blame Kimay’a for being so sharp. It was something most patients didn't want to remember. 

As if it didn’t haunt her enough, it was insult to injury that didn’t even come with a happy ending, no magic healing at the hospital like in films, the hero suddenly back to full health with no limp or mental trauma. Being stabbed had left a bleak outlook for her future, in regards to the prospects of having a family. Her injury left her damaged, and even with emergency surgery, she had lost the ability to carry children of her own. Left deeper scars than could ever be visible on her skin. Like part of her soul had been torn away. Along with the physical scars, mentally it reinforced her walls, barricading to protect herself and focus on becoming stronger. Pushed herself to no end, determined to be better, protect herself and those more vulnerable. Protect herself from being vulnerable again, even if it meant closing herself to other people. Determined not to let her emotions rule her. Just focus on the job, even if that ruined relationships.

Once she was patched up and doped with enough pain killer she felt like she’d drop in the hallway, she was driven home by her occasional partner. Taken inside, he carefully helped her to the couch, adamant as he helped her further than doorway, ignoring her telling him otherwise. “You sure you’ll be okay now, Kim?” 

“Nothing a drink won’t fix.” 

Her wry smile up at him only made him chuckle gruffly, shaking his head before nodding toward the paper bag with her medication in on the coffee table. “Hey now, don’t be mixing those pills and potions. I can’t be here to scrape you off the floor in the mornin’.” 

“Rodger, I’ll be fine,” she reassured, trying her best not to lull her head as she spoke. “I’ll be back to my normal self tomorrow and back to work.” 

Raising his thick brows at her in surprise, he chuckled louder and shook his head again, forever surprised at her determination and dedication. “Oh no, yer catchin’ this week off, at least. You work too hard, put yer feet up.” 

Looking down at her wringing hands, she remembered Leo telling her the same thing, her eyes glazing over as she repeated it in his voice through her mind. Watching her slowly drift into her daze, the rugged officer tipped his hat before turning to take his leave. “I’ll call on you tomorrow, check in, but I don’t expect to see you at the office. Ya hear?” 

Letting go of her bated breath, she peered up at him with a quick glance, looking down to her painkillers as she nodded stiffly. “Okay, and thank you. For helping me in.” 

“My pleasure."

As he left he had the courtesy to drop the latch, locking the door so she had no excuse to get off the couch to move around. It forced her to sit in the silence of her room, only listening to the monotonous tick of the clock. It wasn’t like her to stop. She couldn’t. Even when she was offered time to relax, she more often than not avoided it. Her routine of leaving half finished glasses of wine had become comfortable habit, constantly needing to fill her time with work or writing or anything. Although, part of her felt the need to add self defense classes back on to her agenda. She felt her lacking skills had been brought to light as she read the painkiller packet a third time. 

Rubbing her tired eyes with the palms of her hands, Kimay’a softly groaned at herself, knowing the coming week would be one of the longest she’d had in a while. Maybe Leo was right and she should take a break, but allowing herself to would be hard. It wasn’t simply turning off a switch anymore.

***

Leo hated that getting back home felt like doing a walk of shame. There wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, at least that was what he was trying to convince himself. The convincing wasn’t working very well, considering that he had been coming up with a lie to tell his siblings about why she would call him to her, let alone by name. It had taken longer than he had thought, but lying really wasn’t his forte unless he was forced into it. Generally speaking he just relied on the truth and making sure it was dealt with. 

Eventually he wound his way back home, figuring that any more time might lead to even more questions. He had to keep it reasonable. Always he had to be the reasonable one, even on days and times he didn’t want to be, like that one. It came along with being leader and eldest brother, he supposed, but there was always something he had to put himself aside for. Whether it was Raph’s temper, Donnie going on about a new project and its importance, or Mikey making messes and generally being… well, Mikey. Yet somehow, they always found time for themselves. They all had their “own thing.” Was “his thing” just the team? Was it always going to be his brothers first, then himself if he had time for it? What did it matter why she called him back? He made a choice, and he should be able to keep it to himself, they all did. 

But that wasn’t the way it worked.

Taking a deep breath and putting on his “leader hat,” he steeled himself into walking through the doorway. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had to explain himself, and he was damn sure it wasn’t going to be the last. Sure enough, he found Raph pacing the common room, Donnie sitting and talking to him, more than likely trying without success to reason with him. Raph had made up his mind at the pier that he was going to argue with him about it, and there was nothing Donnie could say or do that would change that fact. At least he was consistent.

“The hell was that, Leo?” Raph snapped, locking onto him like a missile to its target. The tendons in his neck were sticking out, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “Why the hell is a cop calling out to you at a fuckin’ scene?”

“Look, Raph, it really isn’t a big deal,” Leo started, knowing that asking his brother to calm down was like throwing gas onto a fire. That really didn’t wind up being any better, and he wasn’t able to say anything else before he spouted off again.

“Ain’t a big deal? Ain’t a big deal?!” Raph stalked over to him, closing the distance but at least not getting directly in his face. Yet. “You could take down everything we’ve worked to keep secret for decades and it ‘ain’t a big deal’?” 

“Every night we go out, we take that risk,” Leo reminded sternly, trying to keep his cool and not roll his eyes. He had to be reasonable, had to be the leader they looked to. “That particular officer has helped us on many occasions.”

“Oh, oh, I see. I see. It’s okay for her to be callin’ out your name for everybody and their damn uncle to hear? How many fuckin’ Leonardos d’you suppose are out there, huh?” He was gesturing widely with his arms, his voice getting louder. Leo idly wondered if they should have a “It has been 'X' days since Raph lost his shit” somewhere on the wall, but he figured the number would rarely change anyway. He found some amusement in the thought, but had the restraint not to let it show.

“I’m not saying I agreed with that, it was reckless and ill advised, and I let her know as much,” he lied, without so much as a flinch, or a glance away from Raph. 

“An’ why does she even know it?!”

“It came up along the way, like I said, she’s been helping us for quite a while. She can be trusted,” Leo answered, and pushed a little harder when he saw Raph winding up to escalate. Pulling his wife into the mix wasn’t something he tried to do very often, but it was a shot he was going to have to take to get him off his heels. “She was one of the main officers at the scene in the warehouse, with Stacey. She’s never done anything with that, even though she definitely could have, and chose to maintain our privacy. Your secrecy, Raph.”

Raph lunged forward, closing the distance to a point that the tips of their noses almost touched, neither of them blinking. After a tense moment, his brother threw his hands up in frustration, and began pacing again. To an outsider, it may not look like a de-escalation, but that was exactly what it was, and Leo breathed a little easier. “That ain’t got nothin’ to do with tonight, and this,” Raph finally growled, but Leo could tell the reminder had put him a little off his game.

“It has everything to do with it. It proves she’s trustworthy. She needed info for story collaboration, that’s all. Wanted to make sure everything looked clean on paper. But she was hurt and knew they’d take her statement and send her home, she wouldn’t be able to run the processing like she does a lot of the time. She was just looking out for us, Raph. And frankly, we can use it.” Folding his arms, Leo waited Raph’s pacing out, letting his gaze wander to Donnie, who had been silent. Reasonable as he usually was, Donnie gave him a small accepting nod while Raph was turned away. Leo gave him a single appreciative nod back.

“Fine,” Raph finally snarled, giving in. “But if she pulls that shit again-”

“She won’t,” Leo answered with finality, fixing his temperamental brother with an icy glare. He was done with the topic, simply wanting to go off to his own personal space.

Grunting grudgingly, Raph stormed over to stash his gear before grabbing his jacket. “I’m fuckin’ out.”

“Say hi to Stacey and Sera for me!” Mikey piped up from his room, surprisingly on point. Raph simply huffed, spinning for the door and leaving.

Sighing and letting the tension sink from his shoulders, Leo rolled his neck, walking slowly to stow his gear. At some point, things had to get less tense, easier. That was what he kept promising himself, anyway. For the time being, he convinced himself to go meditate to calm down, and not have Donnie look up Officer Humadee to see if he could make sure she was okay. He would respect her privacy, as she had respected theirs.

It didn’t stop him from worrying, though.

***


End file.
